Sealing the Deal in the Shadows
“Don’t you know what happens if you get caught stealing from a place like a research lab? Oh, right, you’re a first-year, so maybe not.”
The man’s sly tone from moments ago vanished, replaced by a rapid-fire barrage of opinions.
“It won’t end with just community service.”
“At minimum, it’s the punishment cell! Copying ethics and morality texts a hundred times in a sunless hole—that’s just the start!”
“Then don’t get caught.”
By now, Maness figured the guy on the other side wasn’t the quiet type after all. The silences came at regular intervals, like clockwork.
“...You can’t do it alone.”
“What are you talking about? Two thousand points is pocket change?”
“They’re asking for something insane. You need at least one accomplice.”
He had a point. Sure, the reward was hefty, but infiltrating a research lab carried real risks.
“Then team up with me.”
Maness’s solution was straightforward.
“I know roughly where the stuff is, so it’ll make the job easier.”
“You know what defenses are inside?”
“It’s a lab, not a vault. They won’t have it locked down like Fort Knox.”
“No, they’ll have basic wards at least. You think the school doesn’t know about punks like you?”
“If I knew every detail, I wouldn’t be here at the Black Market. I’d have gone solo.”
Hearing the sigh from the other side, Maness flashed a triumphant grin.
Two thousand points. Whether for a new deal, building connections, or whatever—plenty of uses. In Snowrobe, where leaving campus was nearly impossible without special permission, those points were gold.
How could he say no?
“Fine. Let’s do it.”
“Quicker than I expected.”
“Can’t have the magic world’s fresh sprout, the bluebird leaping toward the heavens, looking scared.”
“...Right.”
The sly tone returned, and Maness nearly fired back a curse, but no need to piss off his new partner.
“You know how to seal the contract?”
“Roughly.”
“There’s paper on the wall. Peel it off and slide it under the gap.”
As instructed, Maness peeled the paper and pushed it through the crack at the base of the wall blocking their view. The other side did the same.
“This paper will record everything we’ve said. Leak the deal to anyone, and Hamun’s Brand gets stamped on you.”
Hamun’s Brand. From the era of ancient heroes, the mark of the ultimate traitor mage. Even in modern times, it held power. Branded ones couldn’t receive magical education, hold magical jobs, or befriend mages. Even mundane employers shunned them—old habits die hard.
“I know.”
“See the circle in the center? Press your finger on your side.”
“Not running low on mana or anything, right?”
“Wouldn’t be here sealing deals if I was.”
Thumb on the circle, and a faint mana flow seeped into the paper. Lifting his finger as the sensation faded, a sharp new pattern glowed blue.
“Contract sealed. Rendezvous spot and time?”
“Tonight. When the central clock tower rings the third bell. Back garden of Herald Hall.”
“Got it. Names first, then. Page, second-year thief—even the rats’ feast knows my rep.”
Through the peephole, an exaggerated bow of greeting.
Maness shrugged it off casually.
“As you heard, first-year, Maness Pictri.”
“Ho, Maness, huh.”
Maness didn’t wait for the inevitable pause and stood.
Business done.
Hand on the doorknob—
“Wait, that lunatic?!”
The shout echoed through the room.
The wisp incident not long ago. The wisp haunting the first-year dorm hall felt tailor-made for him. No ordinary wisp could show what it had, so suspicion was warranted.
Maness wanted to know who created it. The key to his piled-up questions might lie there.
That’s why the Black Market.
Research logs weren’t handed out to outsiders, obviously. The wisp escaped from the magical creature research lab. Sneak in, snag the records—best bet.
“Take care.”
A quick nod to the lookout, and Maness hurried off. Lunch was ending soon; had to make class on time.
Feet moved fast, but his mind was at ease.
Points make everything smoother.
Not done yet, but scoring this deal so easily? All thanks to that outrageous bounty. Fifty points for summoning spirits wouldn’t have cut it.
Scraaaape—
Striding into the classroom drew every eye. Most faces twisted at the tardy troublemaker, but the professor under “Basics of Alchemy” on the board beamed like an old granny welcoming a rascal.
“Thought you hated my class and were skipping. Glad I was wrong. Sit.”
Like Metaph, she used polite speech. With her staff, she pulled out an empty chair.
Maness bowed slightly and took his seat.
“Lucky everyone’s here before intros.”
Her warm smile swept the room as she tapped the board twice with her staff.
“As you see, I’m Lorraine, in charge of alchemy. Known more as an alchemist than mage, and since I’m a scholar, no Magic Tower rank.”
Kind smile sparked applause rippling through.
She put everyone at ease like no other prof.
“Should’ve started sooner, but back from a Magic Tower trip. Your homeroom teachers filled me in, so less awkward.”
Tension eased; chatter bubbled up.
Learning starts with interest. Lorraine, with her philosophy, savored this vibe.
“Let’s start with what alchemy is. Anyone know the definition?”
Iris shot her hand up boldly, as always.
“Yes, the lovely redhead there.”
“Combining materials to create the desired product!”
“Spot on. Alchemy’s using specific formulas for results—you get what you’ll learn.”
Iris beamed; classmates cheered. Maness smirked—cute.
“But not quite right.”
He knew that glow would fade fast.
“Let’s see, Iris, right? Not wrong, exactly. For our purpose, perfect. But I asked for the definition.”
Explanation done, Lorraine chalked a map of the continent.
“Alchemy’s both technique and study. Not born among mages, as many think. Surprise!”
Tap— Chalk hit the center.
“It originated with Mineral’s dwarves.”
Murmurs erupted. Surface-level magic knowledge didn’t cover this. Alchemy: technique based on scholarly formulas. History? For specialists only.
“You’ve heard of dwarves’ fortress, Mineral. ‘Mineral maniacs.’ Geography class covered details... oh, already did?”
Remembering her late start, she chuckled sheepishly.
“Dwarves transmuting ores birthed alchemy. Failed at magic like iron to adamantine, but the process mattered.”
Emphasis on “magic” drew laughs.
“Mages noticed their endless experiments. Lore says first impressions shocked: monster genitals here, dung there. One tossed his underwear in the forge!”
Scholar who knew how to hook ‘em. Class ate it up.
“Humans and dwarves weren’t close then, but familiar mages bypassed entry to observe. Discovered the formulas.”
She pointed to undistributed lab kits.
“Iris, who made those tools?”
“Dwarves!”
Satisfied smile.
“Sharp. Dwarves: world’s top craftsmen. Everyday to luxury— their work’s another league. Alchemy tools too.”
Staff wave: a flask floated, circled the room, drawing eyes.
“Ideal shape for mixing. Basis of formulas. Mages begged nights away, finally learned the craft.”
“That birthed alchemists.”
Lorraine nodded slowly at Kyle’s absorbed murmur.
“Tools in hand, magical alchemy boomed. Trial on trial, formulas refined—your subject born.”
Flask down, story wrapped.
“Now, ancestors’ knowledge. Fetch tools by row.”
Class about to kick off—
Knock knock—
A student entered, excused himself to Lorraine. Red tie: second-year.
Tension rippled.
Whispered to prof, scanned room. Long purple hair framed cold, sharp eyes.
Found her target; voice like ice:
“Maness Pictri.”
“Student Council President wants you.”
Maness arrived not at the Student Council room, but the top floor of Gormos Hall, for club activities. Old council spot.
Dusty space, quiet, warmed by streaming sun.
“Why’d you call me here?”
The second-year who escorted him said nothing. Tried small talk about weather—ignored stone-cold.
Sharp eyes only.
“Hoo...”
After a wait, even she cracked, sighing coldly.
“Before President arrives, quick message. She’s busy too...”
“It’s fine, Elena.”
Thorns wrapped in warm honey. Bright, yet laced with venom deep down.
Unheard before, but owner obvious.
“Better if the summoner says it herself, right?”
Male student emerged from the open door. Green tie: third-year. Kind face, amber eyes drawing you in.
Maness shivered.
Roman Diana von Lopelt.
First face-to-face with the Second Prince.